


you are the moon that breaks the night

by dillislazii



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ??? i don’t have any particular scenes planned but its bound to happen, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Vampire AU, i dont have a lot specifically planned in general what am i talking about, its a fricking vampire au sexual tension is like the base ingredient, or the fraldarddyd equivalent of it lmao, tags to be added as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-01-13 22:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21233474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dillislazii/pseuds/dillislazii
Summary: Summoned by his king, the boar himself, Felix is tasked to deal with an unusual surplus of vampiric activity. But the deeper he delves into the dealings of the Children of the Night, the more suspicious he becomes of his own king’s erratic behavior. Sure, he had always branded Dimitri a “beast,” but that was strictly in the figurative sense... right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello all! okok so first off: this came about bc i saw @/faiell’s art on twitter of a dimitri/felix vampire/hunter fanart and was like “huh... thats a Concept” and then went on with my daily life. then i read a goth indulgent post on tumblr and i had Feelings that i needed to get out of my system so i suddenly just started writing this and it turned into.... something. All that to say that i dont have a concrete plan for where this is going. Disclaimer: i rarely finish anything i start writing !!! BUT i really am going to try with this!

The wind bit at his skin and tore at his cloak as he rode. His horse’s breath came in snorts and pants that immediately puffed into white vapor. He really was in no hurry to reach his destination, but the thought of being stuck in the middle of a dense forest in this temperature without enough insulation was daunting. Even covered head-to-toe with little to no skin showing, Felix felt chilled down to his bones. The dull ache that forewarned permanent damage began to creep its way through his extremities.

No, he was not anxious to arrive at Castle Umbrael. In fact, he was anything but eager. It had been years since he had set foot in that hulking, solemnizing fortress, and he could not say he regretted that fact.

With the pace he maintained, it was not long before the trees began to thin. He leaned back and tugged on the reins until his steed slowed to a stop.

Perched on a hill, Felix could see the large, black form that was the castle, with its towering spikes which overlapped the dark rock of the even more imposing mountain. Snow blanketed everything from the ground, to the tree branches, to the mountain peak; however, the castle itself remained eerily bare. The stark contrast of black stone to white precipitation bathed in the light of the setting sun struck the eye so violently Felix nearly shielded his sight.

A glacial gust of wind tore at him again, pulling his cape forward as if to urge him onward. Cursing under his breath, he pressed his heels to the horse’s sides and clicked his tongue.

The hill was not steep, and it soon leveled out to a small expanse of flat ground with trees growing more and more sparse until they cut off right before a stone bridge. Felix’s pace was now a steady trot, and upon reaching the bridge, his mind subconsciously supplied him with the fact that it was covered in snow as well, leaving the black castle to be the only irregularity. Felix, like nearly every other citizen of Faerghus, had been taught at a young age the reason for this phenomenon—the material the castle was made out of, a form similar to the steel used for Heroes Relics, was renowned for being an abnormally warm substance, and consequently, it was naturally resistant to cold weather. Although he was aware of this, it didn’t make the spectacle any less unsettling. He pushed the thoughts aside for now, however. He needed to keep his senses sharp if he was to deal with the boar king, and this meaningless anxiety gripping his mind would be a distraction.

About halfway along the bridge a voice sounded from above. Felix raised his head to a pair of guards atop the gate before him.

“Who goes there and from where do you hail?” Felix forced his horse to a halt.

“Felix Hugo Fraldarius. The capital,” he replied without inflection. “I have business with _His Majesty.”_ He spat out the title with distaste, but the guards didn’t seem to notice. One yelled the call to draw up the gate while the other addressed Felix with:

“Welcome to Castle Umbrael, my lord. His Majesty is expecting you.” Not bothering with a reply, Felix directed his mount forward.

Horses had always been more of Sylvain’s specialty. Felix was not known to be fond of animals, and while he did not dislike them, he found that forging emotional attachments to such creatures was superficial and a waste of time. They had their practicalities of course, but that was where it ended for Felix.

So his decision to give his steed a personal brush down instead of leaving it to the stablehands would have come as a surprise to anyone who knew him. He would never tell them it was because he wanted to postpone what was to come. He would never admit to feeling such childish anxiety in regards to the _boar_ of all people. Every time he reconnected with Dimitri, the first moments were the hardest. No matter how long it had been, no matter how much logic and sense he tried to beat into his own brain, Felix could never shake the small, glimmering hope that perhaps, just maybe, _his_ Dimitri—the one whose side he had spent his entire childhood glued to—would be the one to greet him. Not the facade of what he had become. Not the lying royal who was undoubtedly hiding a beast beneath that charming, perfect, _fake_ smile.

He removed the saddle and bridle before slipping a halter over the bay horse’s ears. Taking a curry comb, he began to rub it along the animal’s body. The circular motion was strangely cathartic, assisting in warming himself up a bit more. With protection from the relentless wind, the stable was undoubtedly preferable to being out in the open; however, it was far from any definition Felix had of “warm.”

As he was switching out the curry comb for a soft bristled brush—the final step of his recently developed, in-depth equine care routine—he heard footsteps. Footsteps he recognized with the familiarity that was only wrought from being joined at the hip with another for his entire childhood... for nearly his entire life. Of course. Felix should have predicted this. During their years of studying at the Corps, Dimitri had always been eager to pretend like the invisible, fragmented glass which had shattered between them didn’t exist—or perhaps he was trying to mend it. But you can’t mend broken glass so easily with a word and a wish. Felix knew this, and if anything, Dimitri’s attempts merely drove him farther away. Without acknowledging the newcomer, he continued his ministrations.

“By the state of your horse, it looks like you attempted to vault every snowbank from Fhirdiad to here.” The light chuckle in that all-too familiar voice belied the grin that was sure to be on its owner’s face. Felix sighed. Giving a few final brushstrokes, he put the tool aside and led his mount to an open stall. With the animal taken care of, Felix began to tug off his leather gloves with his teeth. Still, he didn’t turn around. Once the digits loosed, he used his other hand to finish the task. Lowering his fur-lined hood, he said,

“I didn’t follow the road.” A beat of silence. Perhaps the blond was waiting for him to elaborate. When it became clear he wouldn’t, Dimitri spoke again.

“Was there a particular reason?” Felix could imagine the small and confused, yet courteous grin that was no doubt pulling at the corner of his mouth. The mere thought of it irritated Felix. He lowered the strip of thick, navy cloth covering the bottom half of his face. Finally turning to face his sovereign, he replied with a huff,

“Following them takes up more time than it should. Whoever made them was either attempting to give every traveler an elaborate tour of every damned tree in Faerghus or they were merely a fool.”

“I suppose you could have done better?” Dimitri smirked, apparently pleased to have Felix’s full attention. The latter quirked a brow.

“I got here half a day early, did I not?” This evoked a chuckle from Dimitri.

“It has been some time, Felix. I know we have business to discuss, but first let us get you settled.” He stepped aside and gestured forward. Felix grumbled an admonishment beneath his breath that most likely included “boar” somewhere in it, but complied and walked ahead.

Upon reaching the inner ward, a servant was called to escort Felix to his chambers.  
“I will be in my study. Call on me when you are ready.” Dimitri inclined his head with a quick, shallow upturn of his lips before striding off.

The servant was a young boy, probably not older than fourteen, with lanky limbs and a meek disposition. His curt bow was followed by a murmur of “follow me,” which was barely audible. Felix didn’t mind. In fact, he rather preferred this than the alternative. An exuberant servant who failed to quell their meaningless thoughts was the last thing Felix needed at the moment. He wouldn’t be able to trust his ability to restrain from snapping at the would-be faultless retainer.

They traversed up multiple flights of stairs and down a myriad amount of corridors. Blessed silence permeated the air between the two, allowing Felix’s mind to note the details that had changed since he had set foot in this place. The dark stone walls were bare, save for the occasional blue banner displaying the familiar motif of the snarling profile of a lion. Every fifty feet a pair of candles perched in sconces was placed to light the way.

Nearing the chambers, the clipping of boot on stone was now silenced by the dark navy strip of carpet lining the hallway; blue, soaking up the shadows, appeared black in the shifting candlelight. They passed about half a dozen doors before the servant stopped and opened one of them.

“Here you are, my lord.” Another curt bow before stiffening straight again. Felix noted how his body was subconsciously preparing to flee, but propriety forced him to stay until “his better” dismissed him. Not wanting to discomfort the poor boy any longer, he murmured his thanks and stepped into the room, reaching for the door’s handle. Before he could even tug his door firmly closed, the boy was already turning the corner to the previous corridor. He was most likely new, and, not entirely confident in what to do, opting for the easier option of avoiding as much verbal contact as possible. Felix couldn’t help but pity the lad. Forced to dote on pompous nobles who didn’t think twice about the lives of the ones possessing his status.

Dispelling his thoughts of the boy, Felix quickly surveyed his chambers. Opposite to the door was a canopied bed. A mahogany vanity nestled beside it, and a vase rested atop containing dried sprigs of ghostly white heather. A stone fireplace was embedded into the left wall with a small circular table and two chairs perched in front of it. To his right were three arched windows—one was large and the adjacent two, small—with tops joining to a sharp point and intricate latticework intercepting the panes of glass. The howling of the wind along with the absence of the recently arisen moon was indication enough of the blizzard raging outside. Felix approached the windows and placed his hand on the thick drapes, which were that same, deceptive, dark blue. Peering out, he could vaguely see the violent flurries swirling about in the darkness, causing him to shiver merely thinking about them.

He turned back and made his way to the bed. Reaching towards his waste, he unbuckled the leather straps and lowered the pair of sheaths atop the blankets and furs. Next, he turned his attention to his cloak. Unclasping and shrugging off the still slightly damp garment, he tossed it down beside his swords. His brown, leather jerkin shortly joined them as well.

Now simply wearing his black turtleneck and blue breeches, he felt exposed. Felix grabbed his previously neglected scabbards and cinched them once again around his hips. Better. He exhaled and made his way towards the door. Pausing before he turned the handle, he gave one last cursory look over his quarters and couldn’t stop the sneer from coming to his face. Everything was infected with the imprint of forgotten ghosts and dead possibilities. It was sickening really. How this wretched place attempted to claw at Felix and drag him back with its stagnancy to a time that carried nothing but naive delusions of a peaceful future. With a _tch,_ he turned and proceeded to exit the chamber.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s ch 2 finally! It’s a little more dialogue heavy and I’m not great with dialogue so sorry if it sounds clunky

In the recent years of being crowned king, Dimitri had begun to spend more and more time at Castle Umbrael. There was no official explanation as to why, but the default reply one would receive upon inquiry was that it was a private estate which shielded its occupants from the usual, taxing life of royalty; and a king needed that when every other aspect of his life was so demanding and public. It was the royal equivalent of retreating to a vacationing beach house—except that Castle Umbrael was as far north as one could get in Blaiddyd territory, sustaining even colder temperatures than the capital; not to mention it wasn’t even on the coast. Nevertheless, it was an easy answer. It made sense. But it wasn’t _Dimitri._ In the forever Felix had known him, he was never one to run from his responsibilities. Felix could imagine—no, _hear_—the boar say that such behavior would be “unbefitting of a ruler who has so much work to do for his people.” Sure, Felix knew that these visits were not vacation for Dimitri—he still did his kingly duties—however, Felix knew furthermore that the overall effect of a present king would be infinitely better than one who frequented an old, woeful castle for no concrete reason. And he knew with absolute certainty that Dimitri was aware of this fact as well.

Felix found the boar’s study easily enough on his own—somehow his brain had not forgotten the basic layout of this cursed castle—and upon reaching it, rapped on the door twice. Without waiting for an invitation, he opened it and entered.

Books lined the walls, leaving only one bare for the placement of a window which currently encompassed the king’s hunched form. He was sitting at a stout desk with mounds of neatly stacked papers littering the top. Upon Felix’s entry, Dimitri’s head snapped up. He smiled cordially and said,

“Ah, Felix. I do hope you found your quarters suitable.” He leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers over the desk. Felix couldn’t stop his ever-observant mind from analyzing his movements, his expression, everything. While Dimitri would have Felix believe his manner to be insouciant, the latter could see the crease of his brow, the crookedness in his grin, and the tautness to his muscles. He pretended not to notice.

“Cut the pleasantries. I’m not here for a leisurely visit. Your summoning seemed urgent, so tell me why I’m here.” Dimitri’s genial countenance dropped away—a small victory on Felix’s part—and a rueful expression took its place.

“I am truly sorry to drag you here.” He paused. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I know this place does not carry... the best memories.” Felix’s eyes narrowed. _So why did **you** return?_ The words were left unvoiced.

“Are you going to tell me why you summoned me or will I have to carve it out of your throat?” For added effect, he placed a palm on the hilt of his sword. The act, sugarcoated with nonchalance, did nothing to perturb Dimitri. He was used to Felix’s bark by now, to the latter’s chagrin. As irksome as it was, Felix knew it was an inevitability, considering how many times he directed his animosity towards him. Maybe one of these times he _would_ follow through and draw his blade, if only to wipe that affable look from his face.

Dimitri cleared his throat, grounding Felix back to the present conversation. “I—” a frustrated sigh. “Will you not take a seat? You have had a long journey and I fear we may be here for some time.” Felix rolled his eyes. Half-turning his back on his king, he sauntered towards the bookshelves and plucked a random tome to begin listlessly turning its pages.

“Talk, boar. I’ll sit once I grow weary of your aggravating voice.”

There was the sound of creaking wood—Dimitri leaning back in his chair, Felix supposed—before the king spoke again.

“Very well.” He cleared his throat once more.

Even then, the silence persisted for what seemed an eternity longer, though it could have only lasted for mere moments. _Just spit it out already you damned beast._ Felix withheld the barbarous command. For all he knew, it would most likely only drag this conversation out further.

“You were always one of the best of us... uh, at the Corps I mean.” Felix felt his brow furrow ever so slightly, but was quick to school his face back into one of indifference. He thumbed the corner of a page and turned it, the crisp sound drawing out in the silence.

“You would have your own squadron to command, if you were not so stubborn.” There was a breathless air to the boar’s voice which belied something underneath that the raven couldn’t quite decipher. Irritation? Amusement? _Fondness?_ Despite his best efforts, Felix’s eyes darted to where his king sat. Slouching in his throne-like chair, Dimitri stared intently at the desk before him as if it held the words he wanted to convey.

“You’ve dedicated nearly all of your time to training,” he continued. “Wholly surrendering your mind and body—your future—without a second thought.” His idle gaze lifted somewhere towards Felix’s vicinity, but still didn’t quite meet him. “Do you remember the vows I took upon my coronation?  
‘...To give up soul and self,  
For thy Subjects—  
To surrender want and desire,  
For thy Country.  
Baring—‘“

“I swear if you recite one more word of that insufferable verse I will throw this at you,” Felix ground out, abruptly snapping the book shut. He turned to face Dimitri squarely. “Do you have a point or do you just like to hear your own voice grate on?”

“My _point,”_—a drawn out sigh—“is that you have the qualities that few others possess. I daresay you would make an even better leader than I, if you were not so opposed to governing. Not to mention the Fraldarius family has been the shield of the crown for generations. And it is because of this that I scarcely place more trust in another than I do in you.” He finally raised his head and met Felix’s stare. “Which is why you are the only candidate for the task I have.” 

Dimitri stood abruptly. “It will be better for me to show you.” Rounding the desk, he strode toward Felix, passed him, and halted at the other end of the study. He ran a forefinger across the spines of the books, his eyes searching. Felix’s brow quirked up, but he remained silent.

Not a moment later, Dimitri stopped, his hand hovering over a thick, red tome with a splitting spine. He tugged on the book but did not pull it out completely. The sound of the clicking of metal, followed by the grinding of stone upon stone suddenly filled the room. To Felix’s surprise, the bookshelf which Dimitri stood before began to slide outward, revealing a gaping entry to a hallway of utter blackness. _A secret passage._ Felix couldn’t help but exhale a huff of wonder. Maybe he didn’t know everything about this castle after all. Dimitri threw a glance over his shoulder. “Follow me,” he commanded.

——

Felix trailed behind the larger form of the king as they traversed deeper down into the castle. He debated on whether to ask where he was being led, but decided against it. He would only be wasting his breath as he was bound to find out shortly. He did keep his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, however, never one to be wanting in the field of caution.

The torch Dimitri held did little to light the inherent darkness enshrouding their path. Each click of their boots resounded again and again against the stone, creating a cacophonous symphony. Not once during their descent had the boar turned back or addressed him, allowing Felix to stew over the intrigue of their destination.

The praises that Dimitri had heaped on him caused more… disconcertment than self-righteous pride. The boar had never been one to withhold commendation where he thought it due, but this felt more like a eulogy than a series of compliments, and Felix found himself unable to pinpoint what could have effectuated it.

Presently, they approached the end of the hallway and were met with a wooden door reinforced with braces of thick metal. Dimitri reached into a breast pocket and withdrew an iron key. Upon unlocking the door, he pushed it open and stepped inside.

The first thing Felix noticed was the smell. A putrid stink of rotting flesh accosted his nose, forcing him to smother his face with his hand. The second was that the darkness seemed to be even heavier in this room than the previous hallways and stairway leading from the study.

Dimitri moved forward, his torch lighting a small halo around his form. He avoided what seemed to be the center of the room, crowding the edges instead. He halted at a disused torch suspended on the wall and joined his own to it. Once it roared to life, he continued until he found two more along the way, ultimately rounding back towards the entry which Felix occupied. 

Felix’s eyes darted around the now illuminated room. It was circular and without windows, containing a supply of the simple necessities a commoner’s one-room cottage may provide. A curtained bed lay tucked at the back, perpendicular to the curved wall. A wash basin, dust-ridden and a near antithesis of its original purpose, was perched close by. Hanging from the ceiling was a candleless chandelier, thickly blanketed with spiderwebs. Directly below it sat a table with four chairs flocking around it. Atop the table was a white sheet covering an elongated lump.

The unease that had been simmering in the pit of Felix’s stomach since his arrival surged with full force to the forefront of his senses. He shifted his gaze to Dimitri, but the king was merely staring at the sheet. His relaxed posture contradicted the grim set of his jaw and lips.

The raven lowered his hand and exhaled through his mouth. The stench was still present but becoming more bearable. He walked forward, his shoulder shoving the boar’s and causing him to jolt as if the contact stung him. Felix ignored him and approached the table. Placing a tentative hand upon a corner of the sheet, he drew it back to find what he expected. A body. 

At this moment Felix realized that Dimitri was now beside him. The suddenness of his deft movement caused the raven to bristle, but he brushed the unease from his mind and drew the sheet back further.

The body was discolored. It appeared to be in the process of bloating, but the macabre sight was even more unnatural due to the various degrees of implosion all along the exposed flesh. The shredded clothing that still managed to cling to the corpse was that of a guard’s underclothes.

“Who was he?” Felix’s voice shattered the silence that had begun to become oppressive. 

“He was one of the sentries,” came the low reply.

Felix’s eyes roved over the body once again. This time, they froze at the victim’s neck. A pair of puncture marks stood out against the blue-tinted skin. Reaching out, he touched the cold tissue and lightly ran his fingertips over the perforations. A soft hum of contemplation escaped him, his mind already at work dissecting the displayed evidence.

“Where did you find him?” 

Dimitri sighed. “The training grounds. It was long before dawn. I couldn’t sleep, so I elected to brush up on some of my lancework; but I saw him just… lying there, mangled on the floor.” His already quiet voice grew more and more hushed as the account drew on.

“When?” Felix knew his interrogation would flow more smoothly if he withheld his usual insults; however, he was not about to “chat” with the boar king like they were partners, thus resulting in his curt, to-the-point queries.

“Five days ago. I brought him here… as I’ve been bringing the others.” Felix turned at that.

“‘The others’?”

“This is the third body that has turned up inside these castle walls.” Felix’s eyes narrowed.

“When did this start?”

“About two moons ago.”

“Two _moons?!”_ the raven echoed. “You sent my summons only two _weeks_ ago. Why wait so long?” Dimitri rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze.

“I was certainly alarmed after the first murder, but I thought I could handle the investigation on my own. This castle doesn’t house a plethora of inhabitants, after all, so I presumed I would be able to find the culprit easily enough.” Felix raised an eyebrow. His next words were voiced dryly.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned. Not that I’m surprised.”

“Once I found the second body, I knew I required aid,” the boar forged on. “However, I knew that word of these killings must not reach public ear, hence the secrecy in summoning you alone.” Felix knew all too well what the spread of this information to the populace would mean. That an unidentified vampire had somehow infiltrated the servitude of the king and was slowly picking its way through the ranks was certainly one way to strike alarm. “Unrest” would be too gentle a word. “Chaos” would be closer to reality.

“Does anyone else know?” he asked.

“No. Not all the details at least. Fortunately, I, alone, have been the one to find the bodies. And I have been swift in… well, disposing of them.”

“How in the goddess’s name did you manage that?” Felix demanded, his incredulity inadvertently raising his voice. “You’re the _king,_ constantly doted on by guards and servants alike. Not to mention that dog that’s always drooling at your heels.” He glanced back down the corridor they had previously taken, as if the Duscurian would simply materialize at the mere mention of him. “Speaking of, I haven’t seen him anywhere.”

“You mean Dedue? Ah, well, that would be because he is off handling diplomatic affairs with a small band of people from Duscur. A skirmish broke out between them and our soldiers, and they would only entertain the notion of a truce if they could negotiate with one of their own. While he was reluctant to leave my side, in the end I was able to convince him to see the merits of adhering to their demands. Though I would’ve liked to have accompanied him, we both knew it was impossible. These days aren’t the same as those at the monastery after all.  
“And to amend your pre-misconceptions,” he added, ”I suppose he is the exclusion. He knows about the first body, but left before the second appeared.”

Felix grunted, cutting off the topic. He returned his attention to the corpse before him. 

“You said you disposed of the other bodies. How did _you_ of all people manage that without anyone noticing?” Dimitri fell silent.

When he did speak, his tone carried subdued reservation.  
“Tell me, Felix, did you know of this room before I showed it to you?”

“No,” the raven replied after a pause.

“I suppose, at your age back then, you would have had no true reason to. Few outside of my family did. Your father was one of them. And so was…” he inhaled sharply. ”...Glenn.” Felix clenched his jaw but remained silent. “There is an entire interconnected labyrinth underneath this castle that ultimately leads outside of it,” Dimitri continued. “It was constructed in secret, for the purpose of the royal family’s escape should the castle ever be under attack.” The king let those last words fall with volumes of implication. _They would have used this all those years ago,_ Felix’s mind supplied with a sudden hollowness in the pit of his stomach. _It should have worked then. They had taken precautions. It should have **worked.**_ But both Felix and Dimitri knew better than anyone else that _should_ had not been enough.

Felix licked his dry, cracked lips.  
“So what did you _do_ with the bodies?” he reiterated. “The ground is frozen. Even with your beastly strength it would be quite a hassle to bury them.”

“I—I burned them.” Dimitri’s hand curl into a fist at his side. “They deserved a proper burial. Their loved ones deserved to say goodbye one last time. They did nothing to warrant such suffering, and yet…” his voice trailed off.

“What have you told their families? And the other servants for that matter?” Felix queried. The boar sighed.

“Nothing too specific. I told them that I would investigate the cause for the ‘mysterious disappearances’ further, in addition to ordering their silence on the matter until it was handled.”

“You are their king, but the longer this goes on, the more likely whispers are to spread,” Felix stated flatly. Dimitri merely hummed in agreement.

After another moment of contemplative silence, Felix repositioned the sheet over the corpse and took a step back. “Is that all?”

“I can guide you through the underground passageways if you’d like. While they aren’t confusing per se, they are extensive.”

“No, I’ll manage just fine without the help of a wild beast. You can go back now and do whatever it is you do to make yourself presentable as a human being.”

“Felix, if I am to have your aid, I will need your cooperation in this as well. I know this animosity you hold towards me will not cease, however, I ask that you find it within yourself to set aside your personal feelings in order to safeguard the others in this castle.”

“Shut up, boar. You summoned me for my capabilities, so you shall have them at your disposal. But that is all. I’ll have no superfluous dealings with you. Once I solve your little mystery I will return to my allotted work for the Corps, understood?” Dimitri sighed. His eyes searched Felix’s for a moment before relenting.

“Very well. I’d ask no more of you.” The raven _tsked_ and spun on his heel, exiting the safe-room and retracing his steps back through the woeful corridors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!  
[my tumblr](https://www.dillislazii.tumblr.com)  
[yatmtbtn playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/user/dillyweed23/playlist/0Hs0Gv3E5kg5VObaKaD7nK?si=WFqZlY5TSkeLsw116NW33Q)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh,,,,,, hi,,,, idk if anyone who read the previous chapters is even here still but I’m back with chapter 3 after literally like nine months ahaha;;;; and i actually wrote like half of this chapter back then, didn’t touch it for months, and then a month or two ago slowly began to work on it again, so sorry if it feels disjointed. I also only went over and edited it once when usually I obsessively edit my works again and again but idk I’m kinda tired of looking at this lmao,, its not my best work but I hope anyone who reads manages to enjoy! Let me know your thoughts or I’d be happy to accept constructive criticism but please be nice I’m fragile ahaha,,,,, much love!

The next morning, Felix arose from the furs and blankets of his bed and dressed. The sun was still sleeping, but the sky carried an indigo hue which was indicative of its looming arousal. The normalcy of waking before the sun eased Felix’s mind. Most of the castle’s inhabitants would probably still be slumbering, save for the cooks, perhaps, and the night shift of sentries. But those would be either out of Felix’s way entirely, or spread out enough to have little impact on him as he made his way to the training grounds, blissfully leaving him to his own company.

The dummies Felix sparred against did little to challenge him, but the procedure helped to keep his mind sharp and his body fit. Of course, it was always better to have a living, breathing opponent to spar against, with flesh to slice, attacks to dodge, and eyes to which Felix could decipher their next move. Nevertheless, Felix trained with the inanimate dummies regularly. A ritual he maintained, giving his hands something to do, and his sword something to cut.

He would not deny the fact that dismembering the head of a vampire was always more satisfying, however.

The Vampiric Hunting Corps had trained Felix well. In particular, one of the professors had trained him well. Granted, he did have an innate talent with the sword, but the professor, who seldom went by their actual name: Byleth, honed that talent into something monstrous. Felix was one of the hunters with the most impressive headcount, second only to his professor. Being second best was still not good enough for Felix, however. He would someday become faster, stronger, _better_ than the professor.

Of course, the title of “best” meant little to Felix, despite what everyone else thought. A title warranted meaningless bravado. It was more a matter of the actual level of skill required to be superior to anyone else. No one understood that. How could they? They were too concerned with the end result—the shallow notions of heroic deeds followed by easy praise.

But what they thought or understood didn’t matter, Felix concluded. All that mattered was Felix’s ability to achieve his goals. He didn’t need someone to hold his hand along the way.

By the time he was panting and sweating from exertion, the infantile rays of the sun began to stretch their fingers over the mountain peak, pouring through the stained glass windows and caressing Felix’s skin. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and proceeded to put the wooden training sword back in its rightful place.

——

After washing up, Felix grabbed a small bite to eat before making his way to the king’s study. He deliberated in front of the door for a moment. It was quiet inside, not even the sound of shuffling papers reached the raven’s ears. It was still early, he supposed. Perhaps the boar king was in his chambers. Nevertheless, Felix knocked three times.

Like surfacing from water, sound erupted from inside. The crinkling of papers, along with a rattle and a shatter followed by a curse, all subdued by the wooden door, ensued. Felix felt his face morph into a smirk. Dimitri rarely let himself say “disreputable” words in the company of others—something about the impropriety of a vile-mouthed sovereign bounced around in Felix’s mind in the memory of Dimitri’s voice.

Hearing the invitation to enter, Felix opened the door to the sight of what was once an inkwell shattered on the floor, the broken glass now suffused by the spreading, black liquid. His eyes roved up to Dimitri’s rueful expression.

“Good thing it fell on the wood, not the rug,” he retorted, not bothering to hide his amusement. The king sighed and dragged a hand over his face, drowsy.

Now that Felix looked closely, he couldn’t help but notice the dark crescents under Dimitri’s one, visible eye. Or the slight hollowness of his cheeks. His skin was quite pale as well. Granted, it was in the dead of winter and no one was basking in the sun’s rays, but Dimitri’s condition was different. His skin was more ashen than Felix had ever seen. His own complexion had always been pale, even as a child frequently playing in the summer sun. Back then, standing next to Dimitri, who’s golden hair soaked up the rays, bleeding down into his skin to make it tinted golden as well, he looked like a ghost. Back then, it was easy to be the pale shadow of the shining child whose smile was just as radiant. Felix’s younger self had been convinced that Dimitri had shone brighter than the sun.

The previous night, it had been easier to overlook in the shadowy candlelight. But here, under the fresh hues of dawn, it was strikingly apparent. 

“Were you sleeping?” Felix questioned. The boar grimaced.

“I must have dozed off last night amidst my work,” he replied, a small, deprecating chuckle in his voice.

“What were you doing that was so important it couldn’t wait until morning?” 

“Hm?” Dimitri began to move around the desk to where the inkwell lay. “Oh, it was nothing of great importance. Just the usual documents to stifle through,” he continued, kneeling down.

As he began to retrieve the pieces of glass, staining his fingers black in the process, Felix felt a strange urge to bend down beside him and help. He quickly quashed that thought, however. _I take care of enough of the boar’s damn messes._

“You know you look like shit, right?”

Dimitri snorted.

“Thank you, Felix. I can always depend on you to refrain from flattery.” Sighing, he continued more seriously, “In all honesty, sleep has eluded me as of late. The result of these murders, no doubt.” He glanced up. “But this insomnia is nothing to worry about; I’m sure it will pass soon. In the meantime I might as well make the most of my time.”

Felix scoffed.

“I didn’t say I was worried, boar.” He swung on his heel and made his way to the faux bookshelf. As it opened, Dimitri called out his name. Felix half-turned to look at him.

“Thank you… for doing this. And good luck.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” Felix threw back as he entered the dark passageway.

——

The winding, stone stairways and long, meandering corridors seemed endless. All along the way, he found scattered bunkers similar in layout to the one he had seen the previous day. Secret entrances into the actual castle were less frequent. Smart, Felix supposed. The result meant fewer access points to find and breach.

So far he had found two. One door opened to a bartizan on the corner of the castle wall facing northwest. It appeared to be rarely used from the state of things; Felix even wondered how long it must have been since someone had set foot inside.

The second lead to the stables. Felix could tell by the sounds protruding from the other side before he even opened the secret door. He restored the lock mechanism and forged on. 

Time seemed irrelevant when encased in a dark, stone labyrinth. Felix could have been secluded from the outside world for mere hours or for days and moons. The torch he held did little to repel the darkness, only allowing a small halo which was the solitary reminder of life outside of the suffocating shadows.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he encountered another doorway. Upon opening it, he found himself peering into the king’s private chambers. Felix had never been inside these rooms, even as a boy. He had had no reason to. As such, he could not quell the curiosity rising within him. He stepped inside, closing the secret door—this one disguised as a floor-length portrait of the royal family—behind him.

The room, or more accurately, _rooms_ were actually quite plain. There were opportunities for extravagance, but everything not permanently engraved into the wood and stone remained fairly unpretentious.

The ridiculously broad bed, curtained with the color of what was once shining gold but now faded yellow, was situated in the middle of the main chamber. The windows were secluded behind closed drapes, blocking most of the daylight from reaching inside. To the far left was an open set of mahogany doors, dressed with faded, whimsical etchings. Through the doors Felix could see the edge of a washtub. Opposite to that chamber was a room that contained an oblong sofa of a dark blue velvet and a fireplace. Above the mantle hung the mighty Areadbhar. The spear extended farther than the width of the fireplace, making it’s large size appear even more impending than it already was.

Felix approached it tentatively. It had been quite some time since he had seen the boar wield the weapon. The sight of it, hanging harmlessly upon the wall, did little to fool Felix of its true power—the monstrosities it could wreak. The screams it could abscind. The blood it could ingurgitate. Despite its malicious history however, it exuded an air of reverence. Areadbhar was a tangible legend, bearing both titles of Protector and Executioner, depending on which side of the spear one stood.

The raven slowly raised his hand, brushing the pads of his fingers to the shaft. Upon contact, two small sigils, one on each end of the weapon, blazed with golden light wrapping around the rod. Felix reeled back. However, despite the speed of his reflexes, his fingers began to sting mildly with the beginnings of a burn.

“A protection seal,” he murmured to the audience of none. Leaving a weapon of this caliber unguarded was too idiotic even for the boar, it seemed.

With nothing else of importance to inspect, Felix proceeded back to the dark passages.

——

An indefinite amount of time passed, and Felix still found himself exploring the congested tunnels. He was growing weary from the mere distance he had covered. He was even beginning to wish for the feeling of the cold winter wind, if only to give him a taste of what thrived beyond the dark stone and the cobwebs and the one, meager torch he held.

He had suffered through worse, Felix told himself. Spending days and nights in the slums, in the dungeons, in the wild, untamed forest—all in pursuit of vampires. This was no different. Some would say it was more preferable, what with the comfortable bed he was given and the servants who would dote on him should he ask. However, Felix felt no such relief. The ghosts clinging to each piece of furniture and the groundless, mournful solemnity of every person inside the castle plagued Felix’s sanity. At least the dungeons Felix had sojourned had ghosts he couldn’t recognize. In the darkest depths of the Ikhorian Forest there were still the sounds of nature, subsisting. And even in the slums a whispered laugh could be heard every now and then.

Presently, the end was in sight. The tunnel Felix had been traversing opened into a small, semicirclular chamber. At the opposite corner was a twin tunnel, depth obscured by the darkness. Felix suspected it led back to a different secret door in the castle. He turned his attention to the other wall of the chamber, holding his torch higher to better illuminate it. A ladder. A rusted ladder, embedding itself into the rough-hewn stone.  
Felix found a sconce and placed his torch in it before beginning his ascent.

At the top was a wooden trapdoor with a corroded lock. Felix retrieved his sword and smashed the butt of the hilt against it once, twice, three times before it bent enough to give way. The lock had been sturdy... once. It was amazing what the passage of time did to all things once deemed strong.

With a hefty amount of creaking and moaning, the trapdoor lifted, and Felix shimmied out of the musty underground and into an equally musty shack. The air was swimming with dust particles, now disturbed and roaming due to the raven’s movements. There was a window to the left, boarded up, but still allowing thin rays of sunlight through. Enough to be able to see the state of emptiness and decay this shack was in. It was barely the size of two rooms, and contained odds and ends such as overturned crates, a tattered drape, and what was left of a splintered bed frame.

Once, this shack would’ve housed some solitary, old man who kept to himself—the perfect cover for a soldier of the royal family, passed his prime perhaps, but ready to escort them to safety if they should find their way there. When the massacre came to pass, and it was clear the last remaining Blaiddyd would not be returning to Castle Umbrael anytime soon, that undercover soldier found his occupation superfluous, and thus the shack was abandoned.

Felix made his way to the door, finding the lock sigil somehow still in place, a dull, throbbing purple. With his knowledge of magic, disabling it was child’s play. 

The day was bright, cold, and still, and for the first time in hours, Felix was able to breathe air that was not dust and damp.  
Judging from the placement of the sun, it was noonday. There was plenty of time to hike the few miles towards the nearest town. It would be an endeavor, what with the knee-high level of snow, but Felix was used to having unfavorable impediments.

His only companions were the hibernating trees and the few and far-between appearances of wildlife. Distantly, an elk lumbered its way through the forest, eventually branching westward. Up high, a hulking, white gyrfalcon was perched, watchful eyes trained on the passing human.

——

Fendris was a small town, nondescript and forgetful. All of the buildings looked the same, save for the watermill, the only thing that stood out. The inhabitants were mostly old farmers with a middle-aged cobbler here and a weathered barkeep there thrown into the mix. Felix scorned them. They were too complacent. Too ignorant of the bigger picture. They were presented with the certainty of a meaningless life, and willingly chose it every day. They were helpless, and sometimes Felix could not decipher whether it was deliberate or not.

A few people were walking the streets. Passing them, Felix could see the same blank look on each face. None had the appearance of a conniving miscreant, but that would be the point, he supposed. Felix had been hunting vampires for most of his life now, and he had come to recognize the common disguises of human innocence a vampire would hide behind. None of the townspeople Felix had seen so far matched any one of them.

Eventually, Felix could see the swinging, telltale sign of a tavern in the distance. Although the day was young, Fendris was the type of town which housed the man who turned to strong drink when out of a job. Anyone who knew anything would talk for the right amount of coin in these taverns, Felix was certain. 

However, that would be for later. For now, Felix continued to walk until he found a thin alley steeped in shade. He slipped into it and blended into the shadows, leaning against a wall and pulling his hood down to obscure most of his features. Thus the hunt began.

It was a game of surveillance and patience. The object was to identify the prey and strike before it even knew a predator was there. Usually, the game consisted of one party being impartial to the fact that they were a participant, but no procedure was perfect, and at times, the prey would catch Felix’s scent and spook. This was by no means the conclusion, however. The ensuing chase led to a confrontation which required the stamina and shrewd skill only the Corps instilled upon its soldiers. And Felix was one of the best.

Now, as the sun moved across the sky and people came and went with it, Felix observed. Every citizen who stopped next to another for too long, whispering a word, caught his eye. Every figure who hurried on his way was a suspect. He memorized who entered which buildings, and catalogued who meandered about in a seemingly aimless manner.

By the time the sky donned the unmistakable color of sunset, Felix finally extracted himself from the alley. Noticing more and more people enter the taverns, he was certain it was the optimal time to start his inquiries and bribes.

The tavern was as simple as any other part of Fendris. It was not entirely filled with tenants yet, but more and more were pouring in. Felix took a seat at a table in the corner and sipped on his mug of ale, the perfect picture of ordinary.

Presently, the established cliques of customers began to congregate around certain tables. Their chatter mixed into a hum of voices that made it difficult to distinguish the topics. That was fine. After all, the more preoccupied with their own affairs they were, the less attention they paid to Felix.

There was one man, Felix noticed, who remained at his own table, largely ignoring the other men and women. He wore a cap over his bushy, gray hair and his clothes were patched and faded. Upon first glance, he appeared to be doing nothing but staring into his drink. But with closer scrutiny, Felix could see the telltale wiggle of his equally bushy eyebrows, denoting a furtive scan of his surroundings. 

Felix continued to watch him. Little of his behavior changed, save for when a barmaid approached to refresh his empty tankard with a freshly filled one. He nodded to her and a few words were spoken before the woman left.

Nothing more of interest occurred, however Felix persisted in his surveillance. Paranoia was another quality the Corps taught its hunters. Everyone was an enemy until proven otherwise. Never trust a word spoken, a face presented, or a deal proposed. Those words had become a sort of unofficial mantra for the hunters. It had proven to be essential to their survival time and time again, and Felix was no exception. Paranoia was his greatest friend.

And it seemed to pay off yet again, for the barmaid soon hurried back to the man, carrying a tray of drinks, though none seemed to be for him, and subconsciously hunched in on herself as she said quiet words to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Felix glimpsed the passing of a silver coin between the two in a secretive manner which may have slipped the notice of a regular citizen, but was blatantly obvious to any well-trained hunter.

The man jerked his head down in a stiff nod before the barmaid straightened and continued on to another table, countenance back to normal. He pocketed the coin swiftly and settled back into his faux staring contest with his drink.

Felix downed the rest of his own before standing. Upon his approach, the man’s gaze jumped up to meet Felix’s.

“This seat taken?” the raven questioned, holding his glare.

A beat passed before he replied gruffly,

“If no one’s sittin’ in it, it’s not taken.”

As he pulled the chair out and sat, the man looked him up and down. Whatever he thought of Felix, he kept concealed behind a carefully constructed, blank mask.

The silence between them hung in the air, neither making the first attempt at further conversation. The man took another loud gulp of his ale before resituating himself in his hunched position. Felix’s finger tapped the table rhythmically and looked out at the other patrons. 

This, too, was a game. A test to see who would cave in first. The old man seemed insistent on maintaining an antisocial aura, but Felix was a professional when it came to being hard to deal with. He inspected his gloves in a nonchalant manner, not bothering to look at the other man, who was most definitely glaring at Felix now. Good. It would only be a few more moments before the game was won.

And surely enough, the old man growled out,

“A’right what’s the meanin’ of this, eh? What d’you want from me?”

Still without turning his head, Felix replied,

“I want to know the reason why you’re being paid to sit in a corner.”

The man stiffened, Felix could feel it. Still he refrained from looking at him.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’ve received word there’s suspicious activity going on around here. I thought you’d be the perfect place to start my investigation.”

“‘Suspicious activity’? What’re you a crown’s guard?”

Felix sniffed. The thought appalled him. However, he had a part to play.

“If that makes you feel more comfortable, sure.”

The man looked him over once again.

“Nah, the king’s soldiers have a certain air about ‘em. You don’t fit the bill. You seem more like a mercenary, hungry to stick your nose in places it don’t belong.”

“Fine, you got me,” Felix relented, impatient. “I don't work in His Majesty’s service. But I’m still here to do a job. And you’re gonna tell me what you know.”

“What makes you think I know anythin’?”

“Because,” Felix draws the word out, rolling his neck back and inspecting the ceiling. “While you were watching the other patrons I was watching you. I know profiling when I see it. The barmaid’s little incentive just confirmed what I already knew. So out with it. Why are you being paid to keep an eye on the others?”

The man snorted.

“And so what if I know somethin’? Why would I tell you?”

Felix finally leveled his narrow gaze at him and spoke, letting the threat lacing his words be obvious.

“I recognize you’re not as frail as you pretend to be. But I can assure you that you’re slow. Slower than you think. Especially against me.”

The man searched Felix’s face before scoffing.

“Cocky bastard, aren’t ya? But a’right. I’ll tell ya. ‘T’s not like I was sworn to secrecy or nothin’.” Picking up his mug, he tossed his head back and downed the rest of the contents before slamming it onto the table and wiping his face.

“Word’s been going around,” he started, voice low and conspiratorial. “Things have been… _disappearin’._ It started with the livestock. I think the first report was a missin’ sheep. Then a cow was said not to have come home. But when the reports of people not turnin’ up started to come in, the suspicions of foul play started. Two men have disappeared. If ya ask me, ‘ts probably for the best. They weren’t any sort of decent folk. Some even say they probably took each other out in a duel of some sort.”

The man paused. Peering into his tankard, his brow furrows at the lack of ale now inside.

“But you don’t believe that, do you?” Felix probed, more an observation than a question.

The man shook his head.

“Nah. Some shady folk have been seen ’round. Some I’ve seen with my very own eyes. They wear dark cloaks. Rarely do they pull ‘em down, so it's hard to see their faces.”

“So what does this have to do with you getting some coin from the barmaid?”

“I keep an eye out for ‘em,” he replied like it was obvious. “If they show up, I alert the barmaid who alerts the owner.”

“And why would this be beneficial to the owner?”

The man shrugged.

“Didn’t tell me. Though my theory is he knows who they are. He’s probably had dealings with them in the past and owes them somethin’. But as long as I get paid, ‘ts none of my business.” He leaned back and stretched his arms, looking bored now that he’d spilled his secret.

Felix made a thoughtful noise, his mind already at work devising a plan.

“Tell me where the owner lives,” he demanded.

“And why should I do that?”

Felix could not help but roll his eyes. The old man really had the gall to play loyal. He reached down to his belt and unclasped the small pouch filled with coins. The heavy clinking sound they made upon hitting the table attracts the old man’s attention, just as Felix expected.

“Tell me,” he repeated calmly.

The old man snatched the pouch and opened it, making sure it was filled with money. He shoved it into his own clothes before replying,

“His home’s just across the street, at the corner.” He indicated which direction he meant with a nod of his head.

With nothing more than a grunt of acknowledgement, Felix stood and swiftly exited the tavern. 

The sun was set now, and without it’s reprieve the bite of winter was as fierce as ever. Felix tugged his hood closer about his face and began to walk.

He did not proceed straight to the house, but meandered about until he found an alley between the buildings close by and pressed forward.

At the back of the house was a door which was locked; however, Felix made quick work of it. He pressed it inward slowly, careful not to make any noise. It opened but no light spilled out from inside. Perhaps the owner was not home, but at his establishment. Still, Felix continued in the manner of caution. He drew one of his daggers before creeping in, careful not to bump into anything in the darkness.

Eventually, the raven found stairs leading up. He ascended slowly and came to a floor with two doors. One of which emanated a faint glow from the cracks. Felix tiptoed forward and pressed his ear to the door but could hear nothing. He inhaled and drew back slightly.

After a few more moments of steadying himself, Felix kicked the door open. He took in the room’s contents in a matter of seconds: in the corner stood a chair and desk with a low candle burning atop it, on the far wall a bed, and squeezed in the other corner was a dresser.

A man sat at the desk. He seemed to have been reading something, but upon Felix’s violent entry, whirled around. Felix was upon him instantly with the dagger at his throat.

“Don’t move,” he hissed. The man’s eyes widened and his throat bobbed, kissing the blade slightly. Balding, grey hair, thin, drawn face, he looked to be in his fifties.

“Wh-what do you want?” he asked, his voice wavering. “You’re one of them aren’t you?!”

“Stand up,” Felix commanded, his voice like ice.

_“Please,”_ the man whimpered, but he complied. 

Dagger still at his throat, Felix used his other hand to pat down his sides, searching for weapons. Once he was satisfied that he carried none, the raven returned his gaze to the man, who had paled considerably and was shaking.

“Now,” Felix began, low and menacing, “you’re going to tell me what I want to know. No lies, no games. If I think _one word_ you’re saying is false… well, I don’t need to tell you what will happen, do I?” 

And to emphasize his point, he dug the tip of the dagger in just slightly so a slow trickle of crimson dripped down. The man uttered another pitiful wail, but nodded.

“Good. Now, what do you know of the Children of the Night?” The sign of recognition was immediate, and the man took a few moments to collect himself enough to respond.

“A—all I..I know is that they are a league of v—vampires who want the throne for themselves.”

“And what dealings have you had with them?” Felix pressed.

“N—none! I swear it!”

The blade dug in a centimeter. The man practically howled.

“All right! That may not have been entirely true but I assure you I have done nothing nefarious!”

“I’m growing impatient,” was Felix’s answering growl.

“Look, all I’ve done was give them a space to congregate! They ap—approached me. I mean, I… what was I supposed to do? They would’ve _killed_ me! I have my family to think about as well!”

“Did they offer you anything in return?”

The man hesitated. Felix could not help but scoff.

“So what,” he sneered, “a couple bloodsuckers throw some coin at you and you’re eager to become their pet? Disgusting.”

“Business has been slow as of late,” the man retaliated, but it would sound weak even to a mouse.

Felix spat on the floor next to his shoes.

“Tell me,” he said, interrupting the man’s sputters, “when do they meet again?”

“They… they want to use the tavern tomorrow night.”

“I’m assuming you’ve met the leader?”

The man nodded.

“What does he look like?”

“Well, they all wore cloaks… it was hard for me to see clearly, but he was taller than the rest. And I—I think he had dark hair.”

Felix hummed, deeming that enough of a response. He tilted his head in thought.

“Why are you paying someone to watch out for them?”

“I… I may be complying with the vampires but I’m not foolish enough to trust them.” And he truly looked like a kicked puppy now. “My daughter works there. If they decided to show up without a warning, I don’t want my daughter mixed up in any of it.”

“You involved her the moment you accepted the vampire’s money,” Felix said.

He released the man, who had not been expecting the sudden freedom and toppled back onto the desk. Felix approached the door before turning and saying,

“If you breathe a word of this to _anyone,_ the bloodsuckers will be the least of your problems. Understood?”

The man nods, and Felix leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed ! let me know your thoughts  
—  
title of fic is from florence + the machine’s ‘howl’


End file.
